


you started to wonder if your life was a lie

by thisisgermy



Series: whaat huuuuh [2]
Category: Half-Life
Genre: American Sign Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lazy story, Mention of Death, Mute Gordon Freeman, Spoilers, Swearing, accidentally posted this too soon but i'm too lazy to delete and redo everything, takes place during 'follow freeman!'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisgermy/pseuds/thisisgermy
Summary: but who really cares when everything is on fire
Relationships: Barney Calhoun & Gordon Freeman
Series: whaat huuuuh [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905175
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	you started to wonder if your life was a lie

**Author's Note:**

> started: 11/7/2020  
> uh oh! All Barney  
> title and des are from red vox's "i dont mean to complain"! what a sexy as fuck album  
> this contains descriptions of american sign language, so if it's wrong, please don't hesitate to let me know!

all of them, dead. a squad of four, all gone in a snap. he'd been too slow to direct them somewhere safer - too slow to see where the mortar would land until they'd been reduced to ash. atoms? not even a fragment of them left behind. they had been dissolved into a literal nothingness.

he's being shoved somewhere - doesn't know who's shoving him, doesn't know where he is, what's going on. his chest feels tight, constricted, air hard to come by. he's dizzy and lightheaded, as if he's floating in the clouds, unable to control any part of his body. his sight tunnels into a searing whiteness, ears clogged with cotton, senses shot to high hell, both literally and figuratively. so many times, he has scraped the edges of death; bullets, nukes and bombs, aliens, solider's and cops, a decision with no real choice. perhaps, now, death had finally caught up with him, and he hadn't even realised it.

_is this what it feels like to die_?

'-don? Gordon!' _oh, that's Barney's voice. I guess I'm not dying after all_. 'come on man, don't black out on me now!' he wants to laugh and say _I'm whiting out, actually_ , but his hands shake a mile a minute, motor functions on stand by. he still can't see where Barney is, what his expression is, where they are now. 'hey, come on, look at me Gordon.' something large lands on either sides of his face, gently tilting his head up, warm and real and grounding. like a light switch, his sight bursts into sudden view, blurry and smudged. he crashes into his soul, and it's uncomfortably real. he squints his eyes and makes out the hazy outline of Barney. it's too hard to focus on him. _is something wrong with my eyes? am I going blind?_

'Barney.' he wants to sign something else. wants to ask questions, tell him he's okay, that they should get a move on, but he can't. 'Barney. Barney. Barney.'

'hey, I'm here Gordon, I'm here.' there's tears prickling his eyes, and all at once, the memories hit him in waves. bodies, burnt to crisps, laid forgotten in alleys, soaked in blood. people reduced to nothing, littered with bullet holes and shrapnel. people who had put their lives on the line for him, only to be shot down by a cop, or a robot, or a ship, or a sniper, simply because they thought him to be a God; and every time, there had been very little he could do for them but provide covering fire, or quickly sign for them to get somewhere safer, or watch, helplessly, as they slumped to the ground, dead. all for protecting his life, for helping him. again, and again, and again, and again-

'hey, stay with me, Gordon. you gotta breathe.' he inhales a big puff of air, suddenly made aware that his chest is empty. it's then that he keeps gulping in greedy amounts of air, the taste of smoke and dust and burnt corpses staining the back of his mouth with a down right unpleasant taste. he still can't see too well, still can't decipher what Barney's expression is, and it's freaking him out. Barney's disappointed, probably. angry, maybe. the hands remain on the sides of his face, and finally, _finally_ , the world becomes just a touch more bearable.

he is eternally thankful toward Barney for this simple endeavour.

the first thing to snap into focus is Barney, still fuzzy, but there. his eyes wide with alarm and adrenaline, yet soft with understanding. a weak smile spreads on Barney's lips when he regains lucidity, tainted with years and years of pain. 

years and years. that's still something he hadn't had the time to wrap his head around. 

the second thing he notices is that they're huddled inside of an over turned truck crate. by then, mortars had stopped in their rains, their ambience reduced to the buzz of far off gunshots. Barney's weapon lay discarded in the corner, abandoned in favour of comforting him. he feels awful about it.

'Barney.' he signs. he notices Barney's eyes shift to his hands to watch him speak, that softness spreading. he fails to notice what's tucked in his collar. Barney's gaze shifts back into his, and for what seems like an eternity, nothing is said between them. even though the thundering of his heart never calms, he still manages to find some semblance of respite within Barney's eyes that keeps him away from the edge of a full mental break. 

'... here, you uh, dropped these.' Barney removes his hands, and for a split second he wants to protest, to pull them back to his face, but a pair of glasses are being pushed on his nose that breaks him from his human desperateness. they're caked in dust, and sit crooked on the front of his face, but at least they're not damaged. he could see properly now. _well, at least I'm not going blind_. Barney's hands land on his shoulders, a comforting weight on either side that match in their comfort. 'how'er you holdin' up, Gord?'

it's selfish. there's a war happening, Eli and Judith are god knows where, and his gut spins when he thinks about the fates of Alyx and Dog. it's selfish, and he knows it.

'just a quick break.' confliction tugs at Barney's brows, if only for a moment, before he nods. he pats both shoulders twice before moving to sit beside him ( _when did I sit down?_ ), Barney's back making a harsh _clank_ as he sinks down the cold metal. their shoulders touch, a heavy lean against each other that neither protest. the silence between them remains heavy, and City 17 continues its blazing dispute without them. it's only after he allows himself time to catch his breath and control the buzz in his head that he softly taps Barney's arm to catch his attention. he pauses for the briefest of seconds before his hands begin to move in a blur.

'Barney, I am sorry. I am so very sorry.' 

'"sorry"? what for?' Barney remembers. he remembers his language. after twenty years, he still remembers sign. the thought hits him so suddenly that the prickle of tears turn into dams, until they track down his face and sink into his beard, leaving clean lines down his cheeks. his face is hot, eyes hotter, and everything is uncomfortable; he wants to stop crying, but he can't. not with the dam already broken and Barney looking at him with concern and the way their lives are now. the unclean glasses and watery eyes make it hard to see what Barney's current expression is, but he's well passed caring on what others think of him.

he's with Barney, because everyone else is dead. for now, he doesn't have to pretend to be someone they both know he isn't.

'I am sorry.' his chest feels tight again, heaving breaths of air like he was on the top of a mountain. Barney shifts to sit in front of him, and through the dust and tears, Barney looks hurt; not for him, not out of pity. just hurt. '[all this time, people have been dying to help me. and I could not return the favour. they are all dead because of me, and. and I could not save a single person in return. not one.]' it takes longer for Barney to sort through his hand movements this time, but he still catches all of it. understands all of it. he cries harder. 

Barney rubs the back of his neck, expression contorted with twenty years of a painful, forced new life. Barney says nothing to his confession, because there _is_ nothing to say without it being the same old. "that's just how it is now", "it was all for the greater good", "they'd have wanted to do this and nothing we'd had said would have made 'em think otherwise", "there was nothing that could've been done". the tears don't stop. 

'not fair. it is not fair.' 

'yeah, I uh. I know it's not. never was fair on either of us, huh? ... ah shit, Gordon, I'm sorry.' and now _Barney's_ crying, his tears just as fat. 'it's ah, been a rough twenty, y'know. wish it hadn't come to this-'

'my fault.'

'what ...? no, it's not your-'

'it was my fault all my fault my fault my fault my fault-' Barney takes hold of his hands in soft grips and viciously shakes his head, his streams just as quick. a silent gasp escapes his lips, keeping his eyes locked on Barney even if the sight makes his heart sting and the tears cascade harder.

'it _ain't_ your fault, Gordon - _anyone_ could have been in that test chamber on that one day and _you_ just happened to be that fella. _anyone_ could have been in that HEV suit, and it just happened to be _you_. it is _not_ and never _was_ your fault.' he openly sobs now, a grating sound from unused lungs, and he shivers deeper into himself, knees pulled too tight to his chest. he feels arms wrap around him, a body shift close to his form, and it's selfish, to slump into Barney, to accept his comfort, when everything's gone to shit and the world is burning and a war is happening, but he accepts it anyway. like a dead weight, he slumps into Barney's chest, leeching off his meagre warmth and solid confidence. the angle is awkward - Barney holding him from his left side, him facing forward - but neither complain about it.

more sobs and tears bubble to the surface as his back is rubbed and his body is squeezed and gentle words of comfort are whispered over the top of his head. he makes it a point to ignore whatever tears sink into his hair, or the stutters of breath he feels against him. it takes a while longer before he returns the hug with full force, turning into Barney with a gut wrenching cry, burrowing his head into his neck. and it's awkward, with his HEV suit and Barney's Combine uniform, but it barely matters as they hold each other in death grips.

they are finally allowed a break. allowed to mourn for their lost time, even if neither mention what they exactly mourn.

Barney doesn't mention the deaths. doesn't mention what happened then and what is happening now. he just holds him for as long as he needs. Barney had always been simple like that, and he always appreciated it. he's glad to see that that part of his persona had stuck around for so long.

he stops crying, eventually. his vision returns in full clarity, even with his gross glasses. his mind clears of the fog, limbs no longer weighed down, and his lungs inhale air normally instead of in panicked huffs. now all he's left with is a bone deep exhaustion and an itchy, hot face.

'there's a door across from here,' Barney murmurs into his hair, strong arms giving one final squeeze of reassurance. 'if you're okay, we should get goin' over there. I'm pretty sure it leads inside the Citadel, plus it's the only way to get passed those barriers. all we gotta do is avoid the mortars.' he nods once, then sighs. he stays in Barney's neck a few seconds longer before pushing himself away, wiping under his eyes. Barney lets him go too, though both stay close to each other. he's allowed to dry his face and clean his glasses and fix himself up. 

they share another moment of solace, and then slowly clamber to their feet, hand in hand, heavy with responsibilities but held up with a new found courage. Barney gives him a smile, not quite able to reach his eyes, but enough to surge his heart with the motivation to continue. suddenly, Barney appears twenty years younger.

'thank you.' Barney nods; all tell tale signs of Barney's grief are washed away in an instant, already back to his old peppy self. 

'hey, don't thank me yet; I still didn't get you that beer! I'm way behind on my tips, y'know.' Barney turns to pick up his weapon, it clinking with every little movement he makes, and he holds it like it's the heaviest thing in the world, but the smile never leaves his face. he can't help but smile back, even if it feels a little forced. forced, but genuine.

emotions are rough.

but he raises his right hand anyway, palm facing away from him. he curls in his middle and ring finger, his thumb, index, and pinky pointing out, before slightly tilting his hand forward and backward. Barney's face positively lights up with crimson, his small smile spread into a face splitting grin that puts a shine in his eyes. holding the pulse rifle with one hand in practised ease, Barney mimics the sign back, before tilting his hand down as if to fist bump him. he leaves his pinky and thumb hanging out, the rest weakly curled inwards, before quickly swinging his hand from left to right once. if Gordon could race forward, dip Barney, and kiss him senseless right then and there, then he would have. he absolutely would have.

'now come on, that Citadel ain't gonna break itself!' if both of them are teary eyed, they don't bother to mention it. with a loud and silent war cry, the pair charge into the street, a bolt of determination aimed straight for the door across from the over turned crate. in an instant, warnings of mortars litter the tattered street. they don't think about the people recently lost to them.

they had a Citadel to break in to, and by God, they were going to break in.

**Author's Note:**

> half life was hard because the doors were small and out of sight and i am blind and in a panic so i got everyone but barney accidentally killed by mortars and i felt awful about it so i reloaded when i knew where to go so everyone was still alive
> 
> 'i love you.'  
> 'i love you too.'  
> edit 11/11/2020: removed the brackets from Gordon's signs


End file.
